


don't treat her like a mind reader

by k0skareeves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Future Fic, Post Season 8, Post-Canon, Romance, just warm feelings and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k0skareeves/pseuds/k0skareeves
Summary: Jon comes home and has yet to admit his true feelings for Queen Sansa. Arya gives him a little push.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 35
Kudos: 140





	don't treat her like a mind reader

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iswawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iswawrites/gifts).



> So I wrote a thing! After weeks of nothingness in my brain! It's not an update to any of my WIPS but still!
> 
> I dedicate this to Iswa, who's been by my side through this very hard period of my life and who always encourages me to be my best self. I love you darling.
> 
> Based on [this lovely gifset](https://sansaravenclaw.tumblr.com/post/190224014772/aureliacamargo-insp)

Jon is looking down into the courtyard, watching the archery practice as his uncle had once done years ago, when he sees her walking towards the archers. She wears a light grey gown, fitted nicely around her body, with a darker grey clock hanging from her shoulders. Her silver crown shines bright under the sunlight, and so does the auburn of her hair, accentuating her cheeks that are rosy from the cold. He tries not to notice these things, has been trying for the past two moons, since he’s been back from beyond the Wall, but it’s hard to miss the fondness of her blue eyes or the warmth of her smile while she watches a young lad hit the target right in the center from a considerable distance. Jon listens to the sweet sound of her voice as she compliments the lad, and watches as he bows down, struggling with his words and shivering slightly from having failed to notice the presence of the Queen before taking his shot. He hears as she laughs, kindly, sweetly, a gentle and calming laugh that serves to soothe the lad’s nerves and to only make Jon’s heart beat faster in his chest.

“Did you tell her you love her?”

He turns in a startle, only now noticing that Arya stands next to him, one or two steps behind. He has no idea of how long she’s been there, of how long she’s been watching as he watches  _ her,  _ and his throat goes dry at the thought of being caught so vulnerable by his little sister. That’s what she is to him, Arya. She’d gotten back from her travels before he did, and things between them remain the same. Still his little sister, no matter his true parentage, no matter the blood running through his veins.  _ You’re my brother. Not my half brother or bastard brother. My brother.  _ And she is and would always be his little sister. Nothing has changed, not when he’d learned the truth about his mother, not when they both had been in opposite sides of the continent, and they never will change. Their second reunion at Winterfell had been as emotional as the first one, and Jon is sure his love for Arya will remain the same, now and always, as fiercely and brotherly as it has always been.

His heart has betrayed him, however, on the matters of his other sister. Cousin now. It is not the same, of that he knows, and it has not been the same even before he found himself the son of Lyanna Stark. It pained him, back then, to realize the true nature of his feelings for her, and the gods know he had tried to suppress such feelings as much as he could. But now, after having been given the blood of the dragon, after having fought not one but two wars without certainty of his survival, after having spent two years away with the notion of his true self, it’s hard to suppress anything at all. It’s hard not to watch her walk through the courtyard, it’s hard not to admire her beauty, it’s hard not to find himself growing more and more fond of her voice, her laugh, her breath. Now that he knows it’s not wrong or sinful or whatever it was he told himself at night to try and stop the want down his trousers, he finds himself being unable to deny his feelings any longer.

He looks at Arya for another moment, before turning his head back down to his heart. His sister comes to stand next to him now, also looking down, and he lets out a sigh when she speaks again.

“So, did you?”

“She knows.”

It comes out hurriedly and not at all what he has planned to say. But it’s the truth because she must. She must know, she must see it. She’s the smartest person he’s ever met, his cousin, his Queen. She is, even if at times he’d failed to realize it, he sees it know, plain and clear, as she must see him. His stares, his actions, his intentions. He’s tried to keep it down, to keep it hidden, but he’s tired of lying. He’d done it too much already in this lifetime, with too many people. He won’t do it to her, won’t fake it with her, won’t be nothing but his true self around her and by now she must have understood what goes on inside him, whether she’s near him or not.

He watches as she smiles at the young lad again, hears as she encourages him and the others to go on with the practice. He keeps his eyes on her lips, flushed pink from the icy wind, as Arya speaks again.

“That’s not what I asked, Jon.”

He sighs again, closing his eyes. He knows where this is going. He shares with Arya the same bond he once shared with Robb, and the older she gets the more she seems to become more like him. Jon waits for her to speak again, he can tell she’s not yet finished, as he can tell he won’t enjoy listening to whatever it is she still has to say.

“Everyone knows. The maids, the guards, the whole castle.” And at that his breath hitches because has he been this transparent? Surely  _ she  _ knows, and so does Arya, and Bran as well, he supposes, but everyone else? The whole of Winterfell? Surely that mustn’t be true, and yet he turns to stare at his sister and finds a knowing look in her eyes, and he acknowledges that it is indeed true. He has been a fool to think that his feelings could stay hidden any longer, should've known he’d be gone for her the minute he set his eyes on her again.

“Is that so?” He asks, his hand clenched into a fist, only because he finds himself without anything else to say.

“Yes, they do. We all do. But she deserves to hear it from you.”

Jon turns his gaze back down, to  _ her _ , to his heart, to the one woman who’s been on his mind ever since he was brought back by the red witch at Castle Black. She starts walking now, passing behind the archers, stopping next to a small boy, younger than Rickon was when they had last seen him, his hair a dark auburn, similar to hers. He watches as she waits for the boy to shoot, his small hands still clumsy around the bow and arrow, missing the target completely, whether it be by inexperience or by the Queen standing so close. She reaches down a hand to stroke at his hair, gently, as Jon has seen her do many times with the children of Winterfell, and each time his chest will fill with warmth and love for her, and the hope of one day seeing her do the same with children of her - their - own.

This time is no different.

“Aye.” He hears himself speak to Arya, his eyes still looking down. “She does.”

His sister draws a breath next to him and before he can stop her she’s screaming. “Sansa!”

Blue eyes meets dark ones. He does not miss the fact that her gaze goes straight to him, as she had already known he was watching. Sansa gives him a smile, wider than the ones she’d given the lads, warmer than the ones she gives to Arya or the northern lords or anyone else, and he’s sure this is a smile she only gives to him. He smiles back before giving a bow of his head, raises a hand to greet her, without caring if he seems foolish or not. He would gladly be on his knees for her, if she ever asks, but he knows she never will.

She stares at him for a moment longer, before turning her eyes to Arya, raising her voice to speak. “What?!”

“I’ll tell her today.” He says, before she has a chance to reply, and he can feel Arya’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t move, doesn't tear his eyes from the woman he loves, the woman he’s allowed to love, the woman he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

“Good.” He hears Arya say, and watches with the corner of his eye as she begins to move, her voice directed at Sansa now. “Wait for me, I’m coming down!”

He barely notices as his sister walks away, her steps loud this time. His gaze is still on Sansa as she watches him, and it’s hard to miss the fondness of her blue eyes or the warmth of her smile. He doesn't try to, instead, he allows himself to notice more things, to notice the pink of her lips and the way her chest rises and falls with her breath and how her cheeks look ever rosier under his stare, and he immediately knows it’s not from the cold. He keeps his eyes on her until Arya arrives, until they’re both turning, arms linked together, walking away from the archery practice, and he doesn’t miss it when Sansa’s head turns back to give him a quick last look, before continuing to move forward.

Aye, she knows.

But he’ll tell her himself later anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Some of you who follow me on Tumblr know that for the past month I've been struggling with some very heavy personal and work stuff that have severally damaged my mental health, leading me to decide on a break from writing and reading fics and most things fandom related. I've been trying to get back on my feet but it's been hard, so I'm taking it slow, and trying my best not to feel like a fraud while doing it.
> 
> I'm sorry this isn't an update to one of my WIPS. I know some of you might get upset but I can tell you that I'm writing for them! Just not as quickly or as smoothly as I want it to be. My brain has been exhausted from all the things I'm having to manage right now and sadly the words to my stories are not coming to me 😔 However, I was browsing through Tumblr tonight and I found the gifset that I mentioned earlier and inspiration hit me so I decided to take the opportunity and try to write something. This is the final result: a short, sweet little thing from Jon's POV that doesn't exactly fit into my post season 8 series so let's call it an alternate universe. It's very self indulgent and not as descriptive as I wanted it to be, but considering I haven't been able to write more then a few words for each of my WIPS in weeks, starting and finishing this one shot in one go makes me really happy. I'm low-key proud of myself, not for the writing because imo it's not that good, but just for the fact that I actually wrote something that wasn't school or work related.
> 
> So anyways, I hope you enjoyed this thingy. As always, English is not my first language and this work is unbetaed so I apologise for any mistakes. I'm @sansaravenclaw on Tumblr if you ever wanna chat! Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it! 💜


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